Tuesday, 12 January 2010

THE LAST IMPERIALISTS.

When that grand old dog gone down
We saved his service medals,
And bore them for the war parade
That shone on once sun light settled.

Our own objects were outlawed
In case they should coerce us,
So we hid them from our leaders’ eyes
In remembrance of murders.

But the going sun won over
The critics’ indecision,
Who made young men imagine
A land of long division.

And a proud and ancient nation
Was forced by foreign light,
To even the equation,
And insert new insight.

We did so and surrendered
Our mile and pile of pounds,
That down the years defenders
Had fought for on the ground.

And now by their thumb we’re under,
With our units unified,
And it would appear their numbers
On us have multiplied.

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